I Love You?
by Name On The Spine
Summary: A tale of confusion, love and a little bit of the snarky Holly and Juliet humor we love. This is meant to be a tear-jerker sorry. T for language and probable content. Jolliet. Pairing-Flames will be used to roast you alive. Real flames make me happy.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Artemis Fowl. Okay?**

**Now, I originally right a cutesy drabble series, assuming (/hoping) it never see the critical eye of most FF people. Frankly, FG is a more welcoming place (that's right, AK, I know you're here and put away your seashell sword)(The following only mentioned because A) FG'ers scare me, even if I'm one of them and B) because I don't wantr to be threatened with swords, poisened cookies and ninja stars when I can't publicly respond). So, I was curious if writing out into longer-than-drabble chapters would up-the-awesome. So, here it is. I know it's not long, but, the other chapters will be. Probably(not). *I haven't a clue.**

I'm walking down the street in the market, and no one looks twice. I've tanned the _gringa_ out of me, and the blond hair is hidden under a hat. Not a sombrero* though. Those get you beaten up in dark alleys.

There's this little girl. I can tell she's so young, because despite the slight curve to her exposed legs, there is no woman who wears a black, baggy jumper like that. The undershirt was, strangely enough, a camo-green.

But, the weirdest thing wasn't the red hair on chestnut skin, but her eyes. The way those mix-matched eyes looked at me made me feel like I'd commited some kind of murderer. Like . . . if Brutus had a baby sister who he had to kill, too, this would be her as he drove it home, before the tears began to wet her face and blood her chest. She looked like she was placed on a bed of nails, as they slowly dug into her frail flesh, and I wouldn't save her. They were filled with pain like no other, and I was responsible.

I couldn't get over that pain, the kind of pain someone her age (maybe 5?) shouldn't know yet. I had to help her.

"Are you lost?" I asked as I leaned down to face level with her, smiling kindly, if not condescendingly. Her hazel-and-blue eyes followed my every move, for some reason. I supposed that she thought I was her mother/sister/aunt/cousin/other. I looked nothing like her, up close. We looked nothing like we had any relation.

The glare from the hot Mexican sun coming from behind the clouds blinded me from her vampire smile.

"No," She said, her voice too alto, too knowing and too adult for a child, "I'm found."

That probably should've been the first sign that I was totally screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

So, you know, I held her hand and pulled her around for a bit, asking her if any of these women are her mother/sister/aunt/cousin/neighborhood hobo, but she shakes her head and says: "I have to tell you something."

The words sound like those of a child, but she looks at me and in front of the pain, there was this warm, bright insistence. The words are like sweet candy in the air, humming around my head, and clouding my thoughts. I didn't want to take her home- wasn't there laws against that?- but, eventually . . . I had to give in . . . Her voice was so sweet.

So, I take her home. She sits with the posture of a military leader against the sofa and I sit in a chair across from her. She's telling me stories. The funny thing is, this little girl sounds like a grown woman who's seen the world, and watched it burn.

" . . . Then, while you and Mrs. Fowl were out some place in Nice, I had to go visit Artemis about his smuggling with the goblins. It turned out, due to Foaly- I told you about him, he's a centuar, remember?- so, I'm taking him . . . "

I sit there patiently waiting for herr to finish.

"So, we sent Opal back to the past, and my shimmer suit smelled like lard for a _week_." She says, nose comically wrinkled, and apparently she's finished.

I feel so bad for having to say this, but a few of her adventures had me. I'm not the girl she's talking about. "I'm sorry, little girl, I'm not the girl you're talking about. I'm not your Mommy. I'm not your sister, your aunt, your cousin. Heck, I don't even recognize your accent!"

Her eyes have that crushing pain again, "No, Juliet, please-"

"Sweetheart, I don't know how you know my name. I don't care all that much. You're mistaking me for someone else. I'm sorry," I say. I lifted her up from under her arms and led her toward the door. I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed one of those little animal cracker packets that I love (and so do kids) and handed it to her, "Here, take some cookies, and go on your way. Go find your Mommy, and have fun on vacation, okay? If you can't find her, feel free to come back. Bye-bye, hon."

I slam the door, and she's standing out there. Her eyes don't even water, but the pain was back in there tenfold. I feel terrible, especially when she starts knocking again.

"Juliet, please! I need to talk to you! Please! I'm not lying! I'm not the little girl I look like! Juliet, please, please, please, _Juliet_!" That little girls screams, and cries and shouts and she's banging on the door. The door bell is ringing like crazy. If I let her in, she may never find her mother. She's got to. I stay strong and don't let her back in. The neighbors will think I abuse children, but if I let her stay, her parents will leave her, which will be terrible.

But, for hours, all I here is her screaming and banging on the door. And my heart is breaking.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own AF. Link to drabble story is going on my profile. And, yes, I get repetitive, but one of the main points of the "original" chapters, is that Juliet runs because Holly needs her. Please review?**

With a groan, I sank back into the couch. The banging and unearthly screams had stopped. I just . . . didn't know what to do. I probably should have let her stay, there are creeps out there. anything could have happened to her-

Brrrrrrring. Brrrrrrrring.

Oh, lookie. The phone. Now, seeing how fantastic my day is going, can you guess who'll be on the other line?

Possibility Number One (Hint: More stress.)

Possibility Number Two: (Hint: A friend.)

Now, let's see who's my mystery caller.

FOWL, ARTEMIS II, a.k.a.: Possibility Number One incarnate, the little light on the phone said.

I answered warily, said my greetings.

He answered with the sweetest speech I'd ever heard him give. Basically, a debriefing for the correct caring for a small girl. Guess who?

Apparently, her name was Holly. Artemis, too, played a main character in her tall tales, and her blue eye was strangely familiar. But, come on, eye switching and demon hunting?

Apparently, she needs me. The sweet little girl, with her tall tales and species'-related wails (because dwarfs _actually _sink).

And, apparently, the pain that festered in her eyes wasn't worth mentioning. Or, it was a show put on for me. Or, it was for me. I'm needed.

He calls her Holly, nothing more nothing less. A person-name. Or a plant, but there are some crazy people who love their plants, so it still counts. But, he speaks of her like a person. A person that needs me.

A crazy little six year old person; who needs me. Named Holly. Artemis says: She's Holly. She's a person (this crazy little six year old) to him. I'm barely a person to him. It took years to get that status, the status as a friend. And this six year old has it. Maybe, how they met; maybe that's the pain.

All I can think is _she needs me, she needs me, she needs me . . ._ And, she was so small. _She needs me_. I need to help her. I don't care what it was. I'm smart. I'm strong. _She needs me_. I can help. _She needs me_. I'm coming, as fast as I can. I will come for her, like a cliched mother-ship. _She needs me_. I'm there.

I slam the phone down mid-speech, just when he is getting to the "how" (which I totally should have listened to). I can almost hear a surprised "hurk" after the click.

That's why I'm chuckling as I slam the door behind me, running to town.

There's a girl out there and she needs _me_.


	4. Chapter 4

****

What? Is that what you think it is? An update?! I know. I'm suprised, too. But, maybe you actually should read the "real" version. It's more complete than this . . .

I don't live too far from the center of town, where I found her, but it still takes years, lifetimes, millennia to reach it.

"Holly?" I shout. I wave an arm, and my hat falls off, but I don't care because I can't see her. She needs me, and I can't find her. My voice becomes more frenzied. "Holly?! Holly!"

There's a break in the crowd, and a little red-haired girl twirls around, and the edges of her little dress bounce. She sees me and smiles. I walk toward and her, under the smiling film, there's the pain, everlasting and soul burning, pain.

And, suddenly, like sparks flying through my brain, she's not this silly little girl. She's . . . you.

"Artemis called," I say, conversationally, like that answers all unanswered questions.

Apparently, it does, because you've turned around, to the northeast, and have started shaking your fist. The alto of your voice jumps through the spectrum becoming higher and lower, but also a little quiet, as you talk in another language. Suddenly, the accent seems to fit this weird language.

I sigh and take your hand. "Come on, Holly." I say and I take your tiny, warm hand in mine and we start walking back to my apartment.

I notice you're looking at me, and the look is as if I'm a crazy person. Suddenly, you blink. I watch you closer out of the corner of my eye. The pain comes back.

I hold back a sigh, and walk a little faster. I still don't get why you need me, of all people.

****

Okay, the format changed a teensy bit, but it'll make some more sense at the end. Probably. Maybe? Review and find out?


	5. Chapter 5

****

Two? What? Well, I'm trying. Hard. Trust me. I also have a few fics that I'm moving from FG to here, so, all who have me on author alert (No one, right?), bewaaare.

I'm doubled over, clutching my burning sides and have no air. I really shouldn't find it that funny, but the indecisiveness your sentence screams is just . . . too funny.

"Holly . . ." I trail off, still laughing. It waters down to giggles and hiccups before I can say: "An elf and a leprechaun? You can't be both. Couldn't decide?"

I'm not being mean; and if I am, I'm not trying. I used to love to play pretend, I would be unicorns, and dinosaurs, and butterflies. But, never at the same time. You have to choose one- otherwise, it's not fair.

You turn your head so all I can see is your profile. "I am," You say, almost defiant.

Suddenly, you jump up, and the edge of your skirt goes into freefall. Thinking back, I would like to high five whoever got you into it.

"Neutrino?" You say, incredibly quickly and watch my expression.

There's a spark in my brain, and something pushes. I don't know this word; but it's important.

"Bwa Kell?"

Another spark, and my mind pushes harder. The pain is back in your eyes and your voice seems to break over: "Troll?"

Something about you say it breaks the spell, mind wipe, whatever and everything comes back to me.

Now I know you're you.

The world is still exploding as I hesitantly say " . . . Holly?"


	6. Chapter 6

**That's right. A miracle. And three chapters. If anyone is also interested, I would like to take my stories from FG and post them here. It'd be A LOT, like ten or so, but tell me if you'd like them.**

**I would also like to say 'hi' to anyone new joining the whole Holliet circuit. I just want to say that, because it's been so long that Artemis Fowl fanfiction has practically a new _generation_ of people who retype Taylor Swift songs. They even have a few authers too (insert pity laugh). I also want to apologize for taking so long. Someone should start telling me to get of my lazy arse and start typing :/**

**Enough with the AN, please enjoy :)**

I remembered, and I don't know why that triggered the recall better than your stories. Maybe because Artemis confirmed it. Maybe because I listened to you as a woman, and not as a child. Maybe because that was how it's supposed to happen. Maybe just because.

Then, I realize that you only have one of your eyes. I can see you have two eyes, but only one his hazel. The other is a too familiar blue, like an iced-over summer sky. And you're dressed like a little girl, not the strong woman I remember. It's almost funny, you in your little over-dress, staring at me. Cute is the word I'm looking for. Damn, you're cute, Holly.

But . . . then I notice your skin is paler than it was, your hair is longer and darker. Maybe it's a fairy thing? I hope it's a fairy thing.

You gulp, almost like the great Holly Short is nervous. "Juliet?" I can almost see the hope.

"Hello, little fairy," I whisper, and I know the sound found it's way into your ears when you launch yourself into me. You wrap your arms around my hips, which is about as high as you can reach.

I feel your heat against my stomach, and I feel your mouth spread into a gigantic smile, and I smile myself.

"Juliet." I can feel the words and your breath on my stomach, and I stroke your chin length hair.

It's hard not to feel content and we stay this way, just saying each other's names as I remember everything I knew about Holly.

And then, she looks up at me, the warmth on my tummy is gone and it almost feels cold where here face isn't anymore. I look into her eyes, whose colors are almost unsettling together, and I can't see the pain anymore. I can only see happiness. I don't really mind the small cold spot anymore, because everywhere else feels strangely warm.


	7. Chapter 7

**This one I'm thinking of just not using . . . Perhaps deletion, because it's really more of a re-worded less-crypted drabble . . . Opinion? **

I remember the way things used to be, and I remember you.

I suppose that's why "I love you" doesn't phase me, it just makes me wonder-

Do you mean it?

I know, you keep saying it, but that's why I doubt. I don't know if "I love you" is fairy-speak, or mistranslated slang for "thank you", or "I'm proud of you", or does it truly mean what I think it means.

I never really had a problem understanding what other girls meant when they said something. It always just clicked; I'm a girl, they're girls, we make sense. But not with you. You confuse me.

I don't think I'll ever understand what you mean.


	8. Chapter 8

I get that you've got a job, but do you have to leave?

Well, I guess I know you do . . . You're the police, you can only have so much time off, just in case the Goblin/Dwarf war really heats up.

"Can't you stay a little longer, Holly?" I ask, hopeful.

You sigh. "I'm sorry, Juliet. I have LEP stuff that needs to get done."

It doesn't matter why you say it, every time you say "L-E-P"; which is a cool name for the police, it's damn catchy; you make "L-E-P" sound like something sacred. I'd never take something you loved that much away from you.

"You'll come back though, right?" I ask, and she freezes. I can feel the air freeze as well, and suddenly I regret saying that.

"Of course." You say woodenly.

"Holly, you promise, right?"

You lick your lips, and I shudder inside but hide it. "Of course I will, Juliet. I promise."

I nod, and understand. You promise, but you don't mean. I understand that you want to mean it, but that you can't.

"Good-bye, for now," you say as you walk away down the street disappearing into the crowd.

It stuns me how much you look like a cute little girl as you run away, and how cute you look in general hits me like a bus. You've never looked better in that dress than just before you slip into the crowd.

I'm so stunned I almost forget to say good-bye.

"I'll see you soon, Holly!" I shout, my hands cupping my lips to amplify the sound.

I'd like to believe I heard a little bit, just a little bit, of laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

**I updated four times in three days. Why, yes. It IS a record. And I have become re-inspired to write for this, ergo I can and will. I don't own Holly, Juliet or the fandom/Universe they're in, but I do own the fic, and would appreciate no on-purpose copying.**

Month One:

Every morning I have this weird habit. I get up, grab a glass of really cold lemonade and sit by my window for a few minutes, and think about you.

I know, I know. It's weird, and it's obsessive, but I miss you so much it's hard not to picture you fluttering down on gauzy wings, your smile almost bigger than your face.

I miss you. It's hard not to, since I remember now, how huge a part of my life you were. You should really have come back sooner.

Month Two:

My "few minutes" turned into a "few hours". I know I sound like a total creep, but I just can't get you off my mind. It's love, and I know it, and I love you and I don't truly mind. Except for the fact that it hurts a little bit, when I think about whether or not you're thinking about me, if you're missing me, and when you're going to visit.

I miss you so much, I love you so much, I wonder how they were ever able to wipe you from my mind, and how just looking at you didn't trigger complete (or, at least, partial) recall. I think this has to be too strong to hold back. I miss you.

And, I've cried for the first time since I left Ireland.

Month Three:

I have trouble sleeping now, and the other wrestlers are worried. We're a league, and we all work together, and practice together. Me showing up groggy, with glazed eyes worries them. I guess I'm worried too, worried that you'll never show up. I don't know what I'd do, if I'd ever recover.

I don't think about it, even if I'm so distracted I get pummeled into the mats. I don't really notice when I stop wrestling, and spend more and more time on the sidelines, watching but not really. I wonder, at around noon, if you're sitting up thinking about me, when you should be getting sleep.

Month Four:

I'm desperate now, desperate for you. I stay up almost all night, waiting for something that I know won't happen. I know you'd be worried if you ever saw me like this; what you say if you flew in my (always unlocked) windows, and saw me with my blue-around-the-edges tired eyes, and how I've lost a little weight, while I lie a awake, obviously waiting for you.

I don't really care. I'll wait as long as I need to, because I'm getting desperate.

Just so you know, I collapsed yesterday. I was walking home with my roommate. We were chitchatting about music, an event coming up, and how her boyfriend was a jerk. Suddenly, I yawned, and everything went black. I woke up with a throbbing head, and a sobbing roommate, on my bed. She explained it, and I still felt my head throb for the next few days. She got me sleeping pills. It feels weird when they work.

Month Five:

I need the sleeping pills now, but at least I get to work, and get to live. Unfortunately, I'm much more aware than I was before them. Before, it was a sleep-deprived haze of remembering, and sometimes crying. Sometimes I wish I'd kept forgetting, but you're not something I want to forget.

You said you would visit, and I know you want to. I know you have things to do, your own life to life and a far more demanding job than mine, but still, where are you?

I think time must pass differently for fairies. Five months is a fair amount of time, and far from the realm of "Soon". You said you would be back. You said you loved me, you wanted me, _and you needed me_. I think like that, and burst into tears every time. My pillow is soggy with missing you, and I wish you'd come back like you promised. I miss you so much . . .

Month Six:

I don't know why I'm so tired, why I can't cry anymore. I don't know why I'm numb now, just numb hope. Is this how a long-distance relationship is supposed to work?

I forget my sleeping pill sometimes . . . I forget I need to sleep, and that's what'll help. I just sit by the window until I drop off, wondering if we see the same sky, and, if you do, are you thinking of me? Do you miss me?

Month Seven:

It's the best month ever . . .

Holly, I can't believe you're back.


End file.
